Remorse
by Luna C. Starque
Summary: I'm not quite sure why I wrote this, it's kind of depressing and it was meant to be happy. Kenny/Bebe oneshot. Rated M, just to be safe.


_A/N: I wrote this on a plane to California. It was originally inspired by...erm...real-life events? That are now _greatly exaggerated _here. But the ending was not inspired by real events, it was... I'm not quite sure. See, I intended to write, well, basically soft pr0n of a fic, but it ended up a bit depressing. It depressed me, even. I'm not quite sure where it came from. Anyways, hope it's okay. Happy (or not) readings._

-_Luna_

She stretches like a cat, arching her back luxuriously, her breasts straining towards the sky. Kenny is hypnotized. How can someone be so beautiful, he wonders. But beautiful she is. Bebe looks at him with darkly blue eyes, watching him as he scans the length of her body. Her white shirt is thin, and she isn't wearing a bra. Her nipples are clearly defined through the fabric. She's streamlined- he follows her down, sees her hips poking out of her tight skinny jeans, her long legs, her delicate fingers as they caress her thighs.

Of all the girls he's had, Bebe is his favorite. She gets him. She understands his need to fuck anything with an orifice. She fulfills this need wonderfully. He reaches out to touch her twisting golden hair. "Having fun?" she asks.

"Oh, yeah," he replies breathlessly. He extends his own slender fingers and, starting at the point right in between her collarbones, traces down. Between her breasts- she sighs contentedly as he employs the use of his other hand to circle around both of them simultaneously, in a sort of loop-the-loop, and continues down. He finds her belly button, peeking out from beneath her shirt. When he touches the spot right underneath it, she shivers, and a soft "Oh," escapes her lips. His hands ghost over her hips and make their way to the button on her jeans.

Suddenly, the bliss on her face disappears as she sits up and looks at him intensely. "Kenny."

He gulps, licks his lips, staring at her breasts as she leans forward. "What?" he asks.

She re-positions herself so that she's sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Why do you do this?"

What kind of a question is that? He forces himself to look at her face, her beautiful face, his eyes still glazed over with lust. Bebe's own eyes, however, hold none of the ecstasy they did minutes ago. He's confused. "Do what? Fuck you? Because you're sexy and I'm horny."

She sighs. Her dark blue eyes seem to grow stormy and grey. "That's all." She averts her eyes, instead focusing on the spot on the comforter right next to her knee. "Well, I'd better be going. I'm supposed to be home." And before Kenny can process it, she's standing up and grabbing the blue lace bra she came in with, and beginning to fasten it underneath her shirt.

"What? Bebe, wait!" She turns around, hair swinging. Kenny is aching to touch her.

"What, Kenny?" she sighs.

"Why do you care so much all of a sudden? What happened to just having fun? I mean, just- aren't you supposed to be...well, kind of a whore?" Immediately, he knows he's said the wrong thing. Her whole body is shaking, and her eyes are welling up with tears. He can't tell whether they're tears of rage, sadness, or humiliation. He wonders if it's all three.

"Maybe I don't fucking want to be a whore," she says, the words squeezing from her throat as if she's holding back screaming. "Maybe I want people to notice that I'm smart. Maybe I want people to notice that I'm funny. I'm not just your BITCH, Kenny McCormick! I'm nobody's bitch, and I'm sick and tired of being thought of as a plaything! I don't want to end up like my mother. She was just like me, you know, and now look at her! She's single- alone and all fucked up. And it's because people like you fucked her up! I was hoping that maybe you cared at least a little for me-"

"-I do," he says hastily, in an effort to calm her.

"You 'care for' my tits! Anyways, now I know I was an idiot to think anything like that. I don't know why I ever did, I always had a suspicion that I would be proven wrong. Congratulations, Kenny," she says, her voice dripping with wounded sarcasm. "You've fulfilled my expectations in humanity."

He feels terrible. Because everything she's said is true. He agrees completely... he could never bring himself to care for anyone. Not even Bebe Stevens, his favorite fuck. Especially not Bebe Stevens.

"I'm sorry," he says.


End file.
